Like Cat And Owl
by Nerweniel
Summary: Minerva McGonagall is absolutely not happy when a stranger, Albus Dumbledore, is to replace her favourite teacher. Absolutely not! And yet... Please Read And Review!
1. Never

"My god, Minerva." sighed Tammy Weasley.  
  
"I mean- I of course liked him as well, very much really, but do you really miss Professor Sermonem that much?"  
  
Minerva looked sternly at her friend.  
  
"How much?"  
  
Tammy rolled her eyes.  
  
"Darling, you are kind of overreacting. I mean- Dumbledore is famous, you know?"  
  
Minerva snorted. Famous? As if she cared!   
  
Her friend smiled. Minerva did very much resemble her Scottish forefathers, though she did not realize it. That honesty, that clear and ever-present honesty, and still, so bloody stubborn!  
  
"Tabby… I know you liked Sermonem. I know, I know. But Dumbledore can't be that bad. I mean- he was Headmaster Dippet's first choice, and Dippet never chooses wrong!"  
  
Minerva snorted again, more heavily now. Well, yes, that man had been the Headmaster's first choice. He had even almost forced her Transfigurations teacher to retire! What he had done, of course. Well, okay, Silas Sermonem had been quite old… but yet! Silas, also the Head of Gryffindor –a position his "successor" would certainly take over as well!- had been an absolute dear, and she'd always just adored him. The way he had been kind to her after her father had died four years earlier! Almost a father he'd been to her, that was how she'd felt it. As had he. He had never had any children, but she knew that she was very dear to him. He, the old Transfigurations Professor- a bit bored of his own subject- and she, the star pupil of her class- a bit bored of the often too easy lessons. Yes, she truly was. She did achieve bad marks, sometimes- well, seldom, but still…- but only out of the non-interest and boredom she felt for certain subjects. Yet, she did like Transfigurations and she was wonderful at it. The youngest Animagus ever she'd become- all thank to old Silly Sermonem, that sometimes-just-a-tiny-bit-boring-but-so-wonderful teacher.   
  
"I'll miss him, Tammy, and I don't think I am ever going to like that Dumbledore guy. I am sorry, but that's the way it is!"  
  
Tammy smiled.  
  
"My god, Minerva, you are such a- I mean, you can't say he doesn't look all right, can you?"  
  
Minerva looked up to the tall, auburn-bearded man that had taken Silas's place at the teacher's table, and snorted again.  
  
"I don't care, Tam. I'll miss old Silly, and that chap is not going to replace him. Never!" 


	2. Albus Finds Out

Albus sighed and sat down, sipping from a large cup of hot cocoa. Before him stood the, well, one could easily call it a "data base" about all students he would teach this year. His predecessor had done his job very well and very diligently, so it seemed. Maybe even too well and too diligently… Still, he began to read through the pieces of parchment.  
  
Nothing interesting. Well- okay, there were some kids he recognized. That Weasley, for example. Unmistakable, that fiery red hair and those big, green eyes. Must be a daughter- the youngest, probably- of Andrew. Well, she was quite clever, according to Professor Sermonem. Alll Weasley's were quite clever, actually.   
  
And here- another quite interesting couple. Twins- ah, he always liked twins. Two golden-haired, mischievous-looking boys. He didn't recognize there last name, though…  
  
Next couple of parchments- well, the usual stuff, quite normal students, nothing exceptionally.  
  
And then, suddenly, there was another bit of parchment that attracted his attention. That absorbed his attention. The photograph was that of a- not of a juvenile-looking giggling creature- but of a personality. A girl with a pale, expressive face and delicate features, clear, blue eyes and a mass of ebony-brown, wavy hair. But it was not the beauty she obviously possessed that interested him. It was the expression- as if she was so damn sure of herself, as if everything was so bloody simple, and yet, not a slightly bit of arrogance. A personality. And a personality with brains, obviously.  
  
"Has achieved top marks for all Transfigurations exams"  
  
"Transfiguration genius"  
  
"Youngest Animagus ever"  
  
"Probably to be the greatest witch of her time"  
  
Albus almost whistled through his teeth. Wow. This could become an interesting year.  
  
And when he saw her name, he smiled.  
  
"Minerva McGonagall. Well, well… Isn't that Henry's daughter- the oldest, if I am not mistaken."  
  
He sighed. Henry McGonagall, an old friend of his, had died four years earlier, leaving his wife, a young, Scottish beauty, behind with two children. Minerva, this girl, who had been twelve years old at the time, and the youngest daughter- what had been her name again… Maia? Strange liking for names of Roman goddesses, Henry had had. She had been only two when her father had died. But the mother- Priscilla- had nicely taken care of the kids, and did now live with her youngest daughter with her family in Scotland.   
  
Minerva McGonagall… Well, well.  
  
It would surely become an interesting year. 


	3. Dangerous Game

Albus Dumbledore entered the room. The seventh-year Gryffindors were present already, all staring at him, with clear expectation in their eyes. All except one… the tall, dark-haired girl, the McGonagall girl, was sitting next to the Weasley one, at the back of the classroom, annoyedly twisting a strand of her long hair. With not a single spark of attention, she kept on twisting it and twisting it. Yet, Albus decided not to react, and laid his books with a hard bang on the desk, as he began  
  
"Hello, I am Albus Dumbledore, your new Transfigurations teacher."  
  
He smiled, and many of the pupils smiled back. He had made a good impression. Yet, she did not smile. She frowned, as if his words had hurt her.   
  
"Because I don't know anything about your Transfiguration Qualities, I suggest that you, when I call your name, come before the class. I'll ask you to do something, and you will try to do it. Okay?"  
  
The Gryffindors nodded, and Albus started reading their names.  
  
"Abeel, Harriet" did a nice Transfiguration spell of a pillow into a quill, as did "Jameson, Fabius"- a book into a clock. A few other students did quite good spells, and Albus congratulated them each.   
  
"A pretty talented class," he thought. "I wonder…"  
  
And then it was her turn. Calmly, but with unwillingness in her eyes, she came to him.  
  
"Miss McGonagall… Can you- well, change this parchment into a- a rock, for example?"  
  
She sighed and with a nonchalant move of her wand did as he'd asked. He smiled approvingly. A very, very nice spell indeed. And very quick.  
  
"Can I go back to my place, now?" she asked boldly.   
  
He smiled again.  
  
"Well, yes, you can, Miss McGonagall, unless you want to change my desk into a cow."   
  
He had not meant it, but she muttered  
  
"Okay."  
  
Albus opened his mouth to… but it was too late. With the same, nonchalant, calm movement, she changed the desk into a cow and back again, as the class- and he!- watched her with big surprise. She sighed.  
  
"Well, can I go back now or will I change into a cat and back, maybe that'll convince you…?"  
  
She raised one eyebrow and stared at him, her green eyes cold as ice.  
  
As he did not react, she did as she had said. The tall, pale girl began to transform slowly, until a little, grey tabby cat sat in front of the class, jauntily staring at her very surprised fellow students.  
  
The teacher, Albus Dumbledore, was speechless. He too was impressed, of course, for he knew that Animagus training was very difficult, and this girl being only seventeen… Yet, he could not possibly accept her behavior, and he spoke, very calm but with anger in his voice  
  
"Miss McGonagall, could you please change back immediately? We've all seen you show off now, but…"  
  
The cat changed back as quick as possible, and a clearly angry Minerva McGonagall stood before her teacher- almost as tall as he was- with her hands on her hips. At the back of the classroom, Tammy held her breath. Minerva was losing her temper, she knew. She didn't lose it often, but when she lost it-  
  
"I," Minerva began, speaking silently, hardly audible, but with a dangerous overtone in her voice.  
  
"I was not showing off."  
  
Albus Dumbledore chuckled, despite his anger.  
  
"I am sorry, Miss McGonagall, but I am afraid you were. If-"  
  
"I was not showing off."  
  
Minerva's lips were very thin now, and everybody who knew her knew what that meant. Yet, Albus didn't. He just raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Well, I don't know how you prefer to call it, Miss McGonagall, when a student starts to-"  
  
Minerva interrupted him, as the whole class held its breath. They all wondered… who would win? They knew Minerva was almost unbeatable at discussions, but this person was a teacher… Minerva McGonagall was playing a dangerous game…  
  
"I would not have "shown off", as you tend to call it," she sneered. "if you had stopped staring at me and told me to go to my place."  
  
With one last furious glance, she turned her back to him and sat down again, next to a very shocked-looking Tammy Weasley  
  
Albus swallowed, but managed to say  
  
"I will not give you detention for this, Miss McGonagall, but I'd like you to see this as a warning. A very serious warning."  
  
Minerva snorted softly, but the look in Tammy's eyes made her shut up.  
  
"Minerva McGonagall," the other girl whispered. "you are insane!"  
  
Review Please... Make My Day! 


	4. Melted Into One

As the class had left the room, Albus Dumbledore fell down on his chair. An enormous sigh escaped from his lips, as he realized that Minerva had surely inherited her father's temper. She disliked him, and she was not too shy to show it. That she had made perfectly clear. The only thing that remained a mystery, was one very simple word. Why? Why, why, why did Minerva McGonagall, Henry's daughter, the daughter of Henry, whom he'd liked and appreciated, dislike him? Hate him?   
  
He was not angry with her, which was strange, for he had seldom witnessed such a brutality. Yet, the fact that she was a living memory of Henry was enough for him to forgive her. It was wrong, he knew, but he could not help it.  
  
"Never argue with a Scotsman", Henry had once told him. He could as well have said  
  
"Never argue with a Scotswoman", for it was just as true.  
  
But why- why, why, why? Why could this girl, a Transfigurations wonder- oh, he'd seen that!- dislike him like this? Though he'd known her father, he had never known her and she had absolutely no reason at all to….   
  
He shook his head. Never argue with a Scotswoman…   
  
What was it again she had said… "if you had stopped staring at me"…  
  
He leaned his head on his hand as he realized that she had been right. He had been staring at her, though he did not know why. Or did he? Maybe he did know it. Minerva was, though she was not a real exceptional beauty, a beautiful girl. But it was mainly the look in her eyes, the way she walked, that gracious, cat-like gestures she made, that intrigued him. She had Henry's eyes, he knew- and probably Henry's brains as well. But she had very much of the looks of her mother. The best of Henry and Priscilla melted into one fascinating creature.   
  
Fascinating. That she surely was.   
  
Albus sighed and shook his head. But he could not, he could certainly not accept her brutality. Maybe she was fascinating, maybe she was intriguing, but still, she had to be polite! He was her teacher, after all. He had been teaching for so many years in many different classes, but he had never before found it so hard to punish a student. To be angry with a student. To see a student as "a student". Minerva had stood before the class, not as a young girl, not unsure of herself, not hesitatingly, but as a grownup woman who knew very good what she was worth.  
  
Yet, she was a student- he had to remember that!- and he had to punish her if she went out of line again.  
  
He should have known she certainly would…  
  
Review! Please??? 


	5. Thoughts

"I mean, really, Tams!"  
  
Minerva's eyes spat fire, and Tammy Weasley laughed.  
  
"Minerva…"  
  
"He was-"  
  
"Minerva," the other girl interrupted her friend. "You really were rude, you know. I mean- it was extremely funny and you have quite surprised me, but yet, you are risking serious detention, Min."  
  
Minerva bit her lips and spoke silently  
  
"I know, Tammy. I know- but he was such a…"  
  
"He wasn't that bad, Minerva. Well, he acted a bit silly, but you…"  
  
"I have done as I thought was best."  
  
Minerva looked very stern and proud, and Tammy smiled.  
  
"Oh, Minnie, please, don't go all "Lady Minerva", again..."  
  
Minerva smiled faintly.  
  
"I won't, Tams. It is just- I really, really, really dislike that… that… man!"  
  
Tammy laughed again.  
  
"Was that your meanest insult, Minerva? Well, whatever, you've made clear that you dislike him now, but he really was not that bad. At least, for an objective eye…"  
  
"I am objective!" Minerva protested weakly. Tammy rolled her eyes.  
  
"Well Min, if you are objective, then I am Headmaster Dippet!"  
  
Minerva stared at her friend, then suddenly she smiled and spoke theatrically  
  
"My god Armando, and when exactly did you dye your hair Weasley-red?"  
  
Tammy laughed and nudged her friend.  
  
"I am at least happy that you can laugh again… I guess we'll now…"  
  
But Minerva never knew what "we'll now", for suddenly, the door of the Gryffindor common room went open, and two exactly identical-looking fair-haired boys came running in, stopping right before Minerva and Tammy.   
  
"Pat, Phelan, you startled the hell out of…"   
  
But Minerva shut up as the boys both pressed one kiss on each on of her cheeks. Very surprised, she stared at her friends, who grinned.  
  
"Don't you worry Min," one of the boys said. "We still haven't got a crush on you."  
  
Minerva smiled faintly.  
  
"Well, Phelan, I really didn't…"  
  
"It is just," the other boy- Pat- continued "that we are extremely proud of our very own, very typical, very Scottish-tempered Minerva McGonagall. You were absolutely wonderful during Transigfurations!"  
  
"You totally crushed the man! Not that-"  
  
"…we are cruel. It's just-"  
  
"… that you-"  
  
"… who are always on about "respect" and things-"  
  
"… now acted in the most disrespecting way possible towards our-"   
  
"… nevertheless-not-that-unpleasant-"  
  
"… Professor Dumbledore!" Phelan finished the sentence, as Tammy pressed her hands against her ears.  
  
"My god, please," she moaned. "don't do the "I say something and my brother finishes the sentence" trick again. We know you are freaks! Please, do us a favor!"  
  
The boys smiled as they sat down next to her.  
  
"Well, okay Tams, but that is the twin-power, you know. Yet," Phelan said, as he turned to Minerva again "you were just wonderful, Min! I mean, Miss McGonagall, rebellious with a teacher and he even doesn't teach Divination! I mean…"  
  
Minerva smiled, but then nodded seriously.  
  
"I really don't like Albus Dumbledore."  
  
Please Review! 


	6. Out Of Line

"Miss McGonagall, could you please show me what you have already accomplished today?"  
  
He tried to keep his voice as cold as possible. Actually, he'd found her quite amusing. She had not really been rude with him- she'd just ignored him. Chattered with that Weasley girl she had, trying very hard to avoid every eye contact with him. But now, as she heard her name, she did look in his eyes, and the cold look in her eyes almost made him shiver. Why oh why was she so difficult? According to his fellow teachers, she was a mature, respectful and attentive girl. Yes, he had sounded them out a bit. But he had not complained about her. That was his pride- he would not complain, he would handle this on his own.  
  
"Miss McGonagall? I am talking to you."  
  
Minerva nodded, still gazing into his eyes coolly.  
  
"I know, Professor Dumbledore." she then spoke softly, trying to look submissive- and totally failing.   
  
"So?"  
  
"So what, Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
Albus inhaled deeply and slowly, very slowly let his breath out again. Was she trying to make him lose his temper? He never lost his temper while teaching. That exactly was it, that made it hard for him to admit that she was succeeding. He was losing his temper. She was not funny anymore- nor amusing.  
  
"So what have you already accomplished today, Miss McGonagall?"  
  
"I have accomplished to speak three polite sentences to you, Professor Dumbledore. I think it is a most worthy aim to speak four ones. But-" she continued, as the class held their breath in unison. Minerva was going out of line- way out of line.   
  
"I don't want to "show off", Professor Dumbledore, so I don't think I'll manage to do so…"  
  
Tammy gasped as she looked at her friend. Minerva was staring at her feet, as if she was the most shy and polite student ever. Yet, the faint smile on her face proved that she certainly wasn't. She was enjoying herself.   
  
The whole class stared at Albus Dumbledore- and even the twins realized that Minerva had gone too far. Albus was furious. Yet, he once more controlled himself and even managed to produce a smile.  
  
"Always funny, aren't you, Miss McGonagall? Yet, though your aim is indeed a very, very worthy one, I am teaching Transfigurations here, and thus I must ask you to show that you can transfigure the beautiful pillow in front of you into a mouse. Would you please…?"  
  
Minerva smiled fake-friendly.  
  
"But of course, Professor Dumbledore."  
  
The exaggerated politeness between them only underlined the mutual enmity that shone from their eyes.  
  
Minerva raised her wand, and with a very faint gesture perfectly performed the Transfiguration.  
  
Albus nodded and mockingly started to applaud slowly.  
  
"Nice, Miss McGonagall. You are lucky that you are very talented."  
  
"Why am I lucky because of that, Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
"Because you have absolutely not paid attention during any of my past lessons."  
  
Minerva stared at her teacher and smiled.  
  
"Oh yes I have, Professor. How could I otherwise be able to do all these wonderful transfigurations, without any of your great advices?"  
  
"Miss McGonagall, you are, I think, the most arrogant student I have ever had the pleasure to teach. Not that I can speak of a pleasure here."  
  
Albus Dumbledore was angry.  
  
But Minerva was angry as well. She stood up, cheeks fiery red.  
  
"I am not arrogant, Professor. And speaking of your great advices…. not that you have BLOODY GIVEN ANY!"   
  
The last three words had come out as a hysterical cry.  
  
She had lost her temper.  
  
Tammy Weasley could not oppress a sigh and hid her face in her hands.  
  
"You have gone too far." she muttered to her friend, who totally ignored her comment.   
  
But Albus knew that Tammy was right. Minerva McGonagall had went out of line again, and how…  
  
"Miss McGonagall, your rudeness is really amazing. I think I am going to take ten points from Gryffindor. Maybe that'll teach you…"  
  
"Fine!" Minerva cried, hardly noticing that all her fellow students were staring at her. She hysterically grabbed her books and wand together.  
  
"But I am not staying here! I am not. Not, not, not…"  
  
To her great surprise, Tammy saw tears on her friend's cheeks as she looked one last time at the so-hated teacher. Minerva did never cry…  
  
And she ran off, as Albus Dumbledore furiously spoke  
  
"That'll cost you a week detention, Miss McGonagall! And you better show up! Tonight, 7 o'clock!"  
  
Review Please! 


	7. Lady Minerva

Minerva ran up to the 7th year's girls dormitory, fell down on her bed, and started sobbing desperately, throwing her books on the floor.  
  
She had not felt this bad since her father had died. She had not even felt this bad when Silly Sermonem had announced his retirement. And she was crying.   
  
"Crying doesn't help anyone!" she'd said, like, a hundred times. "It is totally useless."  
  
But now she was crying herself and she felt as if the tears would never stop coming. Why? She had been very angry with her new Professor- frustrated and furious, but yet… She had been angry with many people, but she had never started crying afterwards. She was a girl with no regrets. She knew she was responsible for what she did- she had always taken her responsibilities if necessary. So why was she so upset, now?   
  
With her eyes closed, Minerva bit hard in her pillow. She really had to stop crying. She had lost all self-control, and it frightened her more than she dared to admit.   
  
"Lady Minerva- lady Minerva…" she kept on reminding herself of the playful nickname her friends often gave her.   
  
"Come on, Lady Minerva, where are you when I need you?" she spoke sternly to herself, taking one of her large –tartan- handkerchiefs and blowing her nose.  
  
"Okay, here we are, Minerva, what is wrong with you?"  
  
She shook her head. If only she knew that… Why did it- almost hurt her to insult her new Transfigurations teacher?  
  
Because he made her remember her father, perhaps? He probably thought she did not remember him… but he did not know anything of her exceptional memory. She remembered almost everything since her second birthday. She remembered him.  
  
She knew he had visited her parents quite often before her… about her sixth birthday. She had not met him afterwards- perhaps he'd been on her father's funeral…   
  
Minerva sighed as she thought of that terrible time, and of the happy days that had preceded it… She had always been a daddy's girl. How proud her dad had been of his beautiful, intelligent daughter… He was the one who had learnt her almost everything she knew. Not her teachers, no. Her father.   
  
And then, that terrible illness. Her father had faded, just- faded, until everything left of him was an old man. An old man, indeed. Where had been her blushing, nice, healthy father? Gone.  
  
Forever.  
  
Minerva felt the tears return as she thought about the morning she'd received The Owl.  
  
She knew it had to come- but it still was unexpected. An owl from her mother.  
  
"Your father has died."  
  
That sentence had broken her. Ruined her world. Almost killed her. But there was one sentence even worse.  
  
"You'd better not come over for the funeral, Minerva, dear. It would only hurt you, and coming over to Scotland would cause you to lose three days of school."  
  
She had never forgiven her mother that. She couldn't even say farewell to her father. Did mum know what she'd done to her daughter?  
  
But had her beautiful, yet so light-hearted mother ever understood a tiny little bit of her serious, intelligent daughter?  
  
No, she hadn't. She lived in Scotland now, with little Maia, and Minerva did live with her during the holidays, but things had never been the same again since that letter.  
  
And then Silly had been there, Professor Sermonem, to comfort her, to support her, to tell her again and again that the world wasn't all bad. That she had a life in front of her. That she had to live, that she could not waste all her talents.  
  
He had become a new father for her. Not that her dear daddy could ever be replaced. But her wonderful teacher was the closest one could ever get to…  
  
But was this all a reason to loathe Albus Dumbledore.  
  
She had to be honest- she had always been a honest girl. She knew it wasn't. She knew she was acting childish. But she could not help it… He…  
  
And then the owl came flying in. She recognized it immediately. It was Silly's. Impatiently, all her sorrows for a moment forgotten, she opened the yellowish envelope.  
  
"My dear Minerva," it began, and Minerva's eyes quickly absorbed the words. Until a certain sentence came.  
  
"I do really hope you like your new teacher. Albus is a great man- that is why I recommended him to the Headmaster. But I think you'll just adore him, to be honest, Minerva. I know the ideal teacher doesn't exist, but he really is one. Well, he's really wonderful and…"  
  
Minerva looked up from the parchment, cheeks paler than ever, tears on her cheeks again.  
  
She had been wrong. It hit her like a Stunner right in the chest. She wasn't often wrong. But she had been now, and maybe it was best for her to know that Lady Minerva did not always know things better. Absolutely not.   
  
She did not know whether she would apologize to Professor Dumbledore- after all, he hadn't been really nice either. But she had to behave better.  
  
Silly had made her realize that.   
  
Maybe her detention was the first chance to do so.   
  
Review… please… *puppy eyes* ? 


	8. Detention

At 6.50 o'clock, Minerva left her room, her long, flowing dark hair held back in a practical ponytail. She'd exchanged her school robes for the simple, dark red ones she wore in her spare time. She swallowed as she walked through the corridors, feeling way less brave than she looked. Tammy, Phelas and Pat had wished her all the luck- but Tams had made it quite clear that she really had to do her best to not be rude with her Professor again. In fact, it was usually Minerva who told Tammy such things. The world was upside down- but she'd deserved it.  
  
Minerva knew very well she'd deserved it.  
  
As she raised her hand to knock on her teacher's door, she felt herself shiver. She was nervous. She actually was nervous, and it was a totally new feeling for her. Maybe all this was good for her. Maybe all this would learn her something.  
  
But she did not feel that way.  
  
As she closed her eyes, she knocked softly on the dark brown, ebony wood.  
  
Knock, knock.  
  
"Come in, Miss McGonagall!" she heard her teacher say, as she slowly opened the door and came in.  
  
"Hello, Professor." Minerva said, staring at her own feet. She felt guilty. She did feel guilty…  
  
Albus Dumbledore stared at his student in surprise. Where was the rude, arrogant girl whom had constantly disturbed his lessons? Oh, this was definitely the same girl- the stubborn pride hadn't suddenly disappeared from her eyes- but how different she acted towards him. Maybe this would not be the total hell he'd imagined it to be.  
  
"Welcome, Miss McGonagall."  
  
She nodded and smiled faintly, still not daring to look into his eyes.  
  
"My detentions," he continued. "usually are Transfigurations exercises, but because there hardly is a transfiguration you cannot perform, I have another task for you. There," He made a short gesture towards a little table in the corner of his room. "is the homework of my first years Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. I would want you to correct them. I am sure you will be capable to."  
  
With another short nod, she sat down and took her quill.  
  
"I'll try my best, Professor."  
  
"I hope you will, Miss McGonagall."  
  
She looked up quickly, with a bit of her former boldness, and said  
  
"I have never tried anything less than my best for anything, Professor."  
  
Albus almost smiled.   
  
"So the little lady had not entirely faded." he thought. "The spirit still is alive, isn't it?"  
  
Secretly, he was glad it was. He knew it was wrong, but he secretly admired that stubborn pride of hers, that "keeping her head up" and even the rudeness she displayed towards him. She wasn't one of those "normal" teenagers. She was someone special. Someone intriguing.  
  
As she started to correct the parchments, he secretly watched her through his half-moon-sized spectacles. He smiled as he could so easily read the concentration on her face, watched her hand take her quill and correcting wrong answers, a slight frown above her eyes. He watched her hair fall in front of her face, saw her bite her lips as she almost smiled because of one particularly stupid answer. And then, after less than half an hour, she looked up and said  
  
"Professor? Everything is corrected."  
  
He, who'd started correcting some of the older students' homework, looked up in surprise and smiled.  
  
"That is very quick, Miss McGonagall- my personal record was forty minutes. But you understand- it is only half past seven, I cannot let you leave already. But I have not got any…"   
  
His eyes strayed off to the chessboard in the corner.   
  
"Unless, of course, you would want to join me in a game of chess. Can you chess, Miss McGonagall?"  
  
Minerva stared at her teacher in surprise. What kind of teacher wanted to play chess with the most rude… But she oppressed the thought and smiled faintly.  
  
"Yes, I can, Professor, well I could. I used to play chess with… with my father." she added softly.  
  
Albus Dumbledore nodded slowly.  
  
"Yes, I know, Henry was an- exceptional chess player."  
  
It struck him that she wasn't surprised to hear him speak about her father- did she remember him, then? Had she a really amazing memory… or had she just a great sense of self-control.   
  
He did not know- did not know so far- that she had both.  
  
"He was." she said, as he decided to not talk about her father again. She obviously still missed him very much- which was of course only natural. Maybe she had a great sense of self-control, but that did not mean that she could not be hurt.  
  
He smiled and sat down behind the chessboard, making an inviting gesture towards her.  
  
"Well sit down, then, Miss McGonagall, and may the best win."  
  
Review Please… and a Merry Christmas an a Happy New Year to everybody! 


	9. Chessmate

"And that is checkmate, Professor!" Minerva laughed. And indeed it was.  
  
Albus bowed his head, but smiled. Such a deep, melodious laugh she had. And well, yes, he had lost their game of chess… Mostly because of all the stupid mistakes he'd made himself. He had had serious problems to concentrate- he did not know why.   
  
Maybe because he had been witness of a rather amazing process  
  
The melting of Ice Queen – and first class troublemaker- Miss McGonagall, to the kind, intelligent and lovely young woman Minerva. She really was very intelligent- even though he had had problems concentrating, he knew he still was a good chess-player and not many people had ever beaten him. Yet, she just had.  
  
Albus smiled approvingly.   
  
"Yes, it is, Miss McGonagall. Congratulations."  
  
"Thanks." she muttered.  
  
A silence fell. A quite uncomfortable silence.   
  
They both startled as the large grandfather clock in the corner of Albus's room struck ten.   
  
"I think- I think your detention is over for today, Miss McGonagall."  
  
Minerva stood up and nodded, as she grabbed her cloak.   
  
"Right, Professor. Well, goodnight then…"  
  
He smiled as he guided her to the door.   
  
"Goodnight, Miss McGonagall."  
  
She nodded.  
  
But, as she was about to leave the room, she abruptly turned around and looked straight into her teacher's eyes. Albus inhaled slowly. They suddenly were so very close to each other. Uncomfortably close- and yet, he did not feel that way.  
  
"Professor?" she muttered. He could see her dark eyelashes tremble.   
  
"Yes?"  
  
"We've been idiots." she then spoke quickly- impulsively.  
  
Albus smiled and nodded in agreement. He felt exactly the same way.  
  
"Yes, Miss McGonagall. We have indeed been complete idiots."  
  
She nodded vehemently, and then said- hesitatingly, it clearly was a difficult thing to say…  
  
"I am sorry, Professor. I- I have behaved very childish indeed. I am sorry."  
  
Albus looked at her- read the seriousness and the sincere regret in her deep, cerulean blue eyes- and nodded again.  
  
"I am sorry as well, Miss McGonagall. I have been quite ridiculous myself, too."  
  
She swallowed. The sentence she was about to say was one she hadn't said often before.   
  
"Can you then forgive me? I am- I would like it very much if you were able to forgive me and we-could start over. I am very ashamed of myself."  
  
Albus smiled. He knew this was an important thing for her- he knew the strict education the McGonagall family gave to their children, he knew how important politeness was to her, doing the right thing. He knew she felt terrible about forgetting her own, her McGonagall and her Gryffindor ideals.   
  
"Yes, I do forgive you, Miss McGonagall."  
  
"Please call me Minerva, then, Professor."  
  
Minerva. The name of the Roman goddess of wisdom and war she'd received, and that had been very farsighted choice indeed. Wisdom. Wisdom and bravery united in one person- this girl..   
  
This was the very time he truly agreed with his predecessor. She indeed was to be a great witch.  
  
"Please call me Minerva."  
  
He almost smiled as he, for the very first time, noticed something of a Scottish brogue in her words. The way she pronounced her first name. That soft, rolling r made him think of her father again- Henry, who'd been proud of the accent of his forefathers. His daughter had almost lost that so-typical thing of her homeland, but this very special heritage of her father she still possessed.  
  
He softly nodded.  
  
"Minerva. Yes, I'll call you Minerva. It's a good name."  
  
She smiled.  
  
"Then I now say goodnight to you, Professor. And- tomorrow… 7 o'clock again?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Yes, 7 o'clock is alright. Goodnight, Minerva."  
  
"Goodnight."  
  
And lightly, Minerva walked through the already dark corridors to her dormitory. She felt strange- happy and- perhaps… frisky. She felt as if she could start laughing, here and now, in the corridors of Hogwarts, her so beloved school. Yet, with a small smile on her lips, she oppressed the unfamiliar feeling.   
  
Why was she happy, after all? A whole week of detention!  
  
But was detention a bad thing?  
  
She had the strange feeling it wasn't.  
  
Please Review… Happy New Year! 


	10. Friendly Opinions

Well, an extra long chappie on New Years Day! Happy New Year to all!  
  
As Minerva entered the Gryffindor common room, she felt as if she was being watched by a hundred eyes. Well, she was, actually. In fact, the incident between her- star pupil, model student!- and the new teacher was the hottest news of the school. Minerva McGonagall, arguing with a Professor… who didn't even teach Divinations! They all knew of her somewhat… vehement dislike of that particular subject- and of the very respectable Professor Imprevus, who taught it. They all knew of the rather rude conversations she usually had with him during class. Well, actually, they all knew she'd called him a "incapable charlatan" and walked out of his classroom in fifth year, to never return again.  
  
But this was different. This was Transfigurations, her favorite subject. The subject she was a genius at. This was Professor Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore, important, famous, probably greatest wizard of his time… and her Head of House! Not exactly the person any student would want to argue with, really. And Minerva McGonagall, Minerva-I-never-get-detention McGonagall… Detention…  
  
As Minerva fell down on her usual chair, feeling the awkward silence and the curious gazes in the room, she laughed and looked around. But she did not say anything- until Tammy, who was undoubtedly the most curious of them all, asked eagerly, playfully slapping her friend on the cheek  
  
"So, young lady, are you going to tell us about it or aren't you? You better are!"  
  
Minerva smiled.  
  
"It wasn't all bad, really, guys! Don't look at me as if I've just escaped a lake full of crocodiles…"  
  
Pat rolled his eyes.   
  
"Hear her! I mean, Min, it was actually you who first made the lake-full-of-crocodiles comparison."  
  
Tammy nodded vehemently and Phelas, who was sitting next to her, added  
  
"Well, yes, and don't tell me you enjoyed your detention. Even you cannot enjoy detentions!"  
  
Minerva smiled faintly.  
  
"I guess I'll take that as a compliment. But you know…"  
  
But before she could say more, a mischievous-looking girl with short, silvery-blond hairs interrupted her.   
  
"No, come on, Minerva, what did he make you do? I mean- we have been waiting here for you all night, and…"  
  
"Firstly," Minerva answered semi-sternly. "it's only been three hours, you can hardly speak of all night. And secondly, Rolanda, you've been to Quidditch practice, so how could you ever hve waited for me "all night"."  
  
Rolanda Hooch rolled her eyes, but then guiltily bowed her head.  
  
"Alright, Tabby, alright. I have been to Quidditch practice. By the way, you have missed something, young lady! Actually, you are going to miss something! A whole week of Quidditch practice, and the match…" Rolanda was a Chaser of the Gryffindor Quidditch team- a wonderful Chaser, really.  
  
"Okay," Minerva raised her hands. "okay, I admit guilt. And I promise that I will train twice as hard -after this week-for the upcoming match." With a twitch of irony, she added  
  
"You won't have to miss your fantastic Seeker any longer. Really, Rolanda, can't you really find another Seeker. I just want to…"  
  
Rolanda rolled her strange, yellowish eyes again.  
  
"Minerva, don't give us the "concentrate on my studies"-rubbish again. You are our Seeker, we need you, you like Quidditch and you are really good."  
  
"I am not." responded Minerva dryly. "I am not bad, okay, but you would make a way better Seeker, Rolanda, and you know that."  
  
Rolanda looked at her friend, and then shook her head.  
  
"Min, we need you. I could not catch a Snitch like you to save my life!"  
  
"But," was Minerva's last- weak- defence. "I am… well, I am just not the sport-type, you know."  
  
"No," laughed Rolanda. "no, you are every inch a lady, Min. But you love Quidditch, don't you? And we really… I mean… we need you, Min. Please play."  
  
Minerva looked into her friends eyes. She saw the ever-present mischievous twinkle, of course, but she also read a serious, a sincere plea from one friend to the other. And she nodded and smiled.  
  
"I will play, Ro. I won't let you guys down."  
  
Rolanda grinned broadly and laid a hand on her friend's arm.  
  
"Thanks Min. I really appreciate this…"  
  
"And would you two Quidditch-freaks please shut up!" Tammy, Poppy Pomfrey and Serena Sinistra yelled in unison- but they were laughing. "Come on now, Minerva, how was the bloody Detention with Dumbledore?"  
  
The capitalized "D" in "detention" was so obviously pronounced that Minerva laughed as well.  
  
"It was alright. Really! I mean- he made me correct some homework of a few first years.   
  
The first year Gryffindors, sitting in a corner of the Common Room, startled. Suddenly, one of the braver ones- Shinn Sinistra, Serena's younger sis- asked softly  
  
"How was mine… Minerva?"  
  
The other first years glanced hopefully at the older girl. They were all a bit frightened of her- she was so tall, and so smart, and so stern sometimes. And a Prefect, after all.  
  
But Minerva smiled friendly.   
  
"They were all alright. I mean- a few A's- acceptable- and a few "Exceeds Expectations" and some really good ones. Nothing to be afraid of, really."  
  
The first years smiled back shyly.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"So, so, so? You haven't been grading those things for three hours, have you?" Rolanda pressed the matter again. "Now you've made me rather curious as well!"  
  
Minerva sighed theatrically and raised her hands.   
  
"Really, do you all have such boring lives that even a simple detention makes you all go curious? I mean…"  
  
"Yes, but this was detention with Dumbledore?" Poppy answered.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And Dumbledore is famous and- well, quite handsome, actually." Serena grinned sheepishly.  
  
Tammy nodded.  
  
"Yeah, even I have noticed that!" she smiled.  
  
"Hey, you have me to look at, Tams!" Phelas objected, protectively laying an arm around his girlfriend. "You aren't supposed to drool over old Professors!"  
  
Tammy smiled.   
  
"Oh god, are you jealous?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh yes you are!"  
  
"I am not."  
  
"Oh yes you are!"  
  
"I am not."  
  
As they kept going on, Rolanda rolled her eyes and threw Minerva's cloak over the couple and turned to Minerva.  
  
"You know, Min, he really is quite handsome. And he is not exactly old. Like, well, twenty years our senior, perhaps."  
  
"More!" sounded Phelas's muffled voice.   
  
"Oh shut up. So, Min, what did you do afterwards?"  
  
"Play chess." Minerva responded dryly.   
  
The reaction of her friends was somewhat more vehement.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I mean, you actually played…"  
  
"And that was your detention?"  
  
"You hated him!"  
  
"My god, Min, what…"  
  
And then, suddenly, Rolanda's voice- ever the sportswoman.  
  
"Who has won?"  
  
Minerva laughed.  
  
"I have."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Min, YOU HATED HIM!" Tammy repeated her former exclamation. "You have played chess with him and you hated him!"  
  
Minerva shrugged her shoulders.   
  
"Well, not anymore. I kind of like him, now. Perhaps I really was wrong about him."  
  
Tammy stared at her friend as if she'd just seen a ghost.   
  
Pat waved his hand before her eyes.   
  
Serena held her breath.  
  
But it was Rolanda again who actually said something.  
  
"My god… have you , Minerva Katherine McGonagall, really, here, now, admitted that you were wrong? Minerva, you surprise me everyday."  
  
"Wait…"   
  
Poppy raised her hand.  
  
"Does this mean that… that you have been playing chess, talking, maybe even having fun with that well… bloody handsome Professor of ours? Min…"  
  
Rolanda softly whistled and smiled as Minerva gave her a very, very stern look.  
  
"Don't you dare imply anything, Ro. He is my teacher. He is our teacher. Perhaps he is handsome-"  
  
"So you admit he's handsome!"  
  
"-but he is our teacher." The last word had come out as quite a hysterical cry- a totally not-like-her-usual-self hysterical cry.  
  
Poppy, Serena and Tammy started laughing.  
  
"My god, Min, are you in love with this man or what?"  
  
They were joking, of course, but yet, Minerva slightly overreacted and yelled  
  
"NO!!!"  
  
Please Review??? 


	11. Shivers

And of course it was right. Minerva had to admit she started to quite like her teacher, but she would of course never think of… Such things were despicable, horrid, unspeakable! A student with… with a teacher! Imagine… A teacher…   
  
She shivered lightly as she went to bed and closed her eyes.   
  
"Goodnight Tams, Ro, Poppy, Sera!"  
  
"Goodnight, Minerva!" the other girls' voices responded in unison.  
  
Minerva smiled and yawned. She was tired, yes, but life was beautiful, wasn't it? Tomorrow another day, tomorrow another Transfigurations class, tomorrow night another detention with Dumbledore. And despite her strong feeling for what was appropriate and what wasn't, Minerva fell asleep with a happy smile on her face.  
  
~*~  
  
"Good morning, class!" Albus Dumbledore greeted lively.  
  
"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore." the class answered, all grinning, and this time, a certain dark-haired, tall girl was smiling as well.  
  
"Okay, class. Today we'll concentrate on object-to-animal-transfigurations. As you all can see, you have got teapots in front of you. You will all try to change those teapots into nice, living, healthy kittens. And make sure they are not flowery anymore. I don't expect you to manage this from the very first time…"   
  
The students smiled, but Minerva raised her eyebrows as she grinned.  
  
"At least, not all of you…" Albus added, as he read the sparkle of humor in her emerald green eyes.   
  
And indeed, her teapot was almost immediately transfigured into a beautiful, striped kitten.   
  
As Albus walked through the classroom, casually correcting other students' mistakes- a kitten with smoking coming out of his ears was probably not really healthy-, he stopped beside her and chuckled.  
  
"So, Miss McGonagall, your kitten seems to be quite a nice little fellow! Do you think that's because of your feline instincts?"  
  
As Minerva looked up at her teacher, she grinned as well- and all students stared at each other, not knowing what to think of this strange change of behavior. All enmity between the two had… suddenly disappeared…  
  
"I guess so, Professor."  
  
Albus nodded and answered her grin. But as he looked into those clear, intelligent green eyes again, something suddenly changed. She felt it as well. Suddenly his piercing, blue-eyed gaze was too piercing, and his sweet smile was too sweet. She quickly concentrated on the meowing kitten in her arms again, but feeling his gaze was enough to make her shiver.  
  
Where did this sudden shyness come from?  
  
They did get along quite well now, didn't they?  
  
Didn't they?  
  
Please Review! 


	12. Detention: The Sequel

It was 6.59 p.m. and Albus Dumbledore felt nervous. And he felt nervous about being nervous. Why was he, after all? Just another night, just another detention with a student who hadn't known how to behave properly in class… A very normal thing.  
  
But nothing was normal when it considered Minerva McGonagall…   
  
That girl had something about her. Something mature and yet something young…. Something strange, yet something wonderful. Minerva was a beauty, certainly, but an unusual kind of beauty. Her pretty face somehow was… eclipsed by the radiant, almost ethereal, look in her eyes. And by her ever-present intelligence. It was a law of nature- and of jealous girls- that beauty and brains couldn't go together. It "wasn't fair". Yet, Minerva possessed both of them.  
  
And that somehow made Albus nervous.  
  
A soft knock on the door made him look up, and suddenly she stood before him, his student, that tall, dark-haired girl with her bewitching face.  
  
"Hello, Professor Dumbledore." she said formally, taking her cloak of. Somehow, Albus was disappointed. The look in her eyes was a rather… uncomfortable one. As if she didn't want to be here.  
  
"But of course she doesn't want to be here, you coot!" Albus said to himself. "This is detention, remember?"  
  
But the strangely aching feeling didn't leave him.  
  
"Hello, Minerva. I have some essays for you to correct. They are over there. By the way- do you want a cup of hot cocoa?"  
  
He saw the girl raise her eyebrows, yet she smiled- a bit forcedly.  
  
"Sure, Professor. Thank you."  
  
As Minerva sat down at the desk and slowly sipped from her cup, allowing the sweet heat flow through her body, she sighed.  
  
"Anything wrong, Minerva?"  
  
Quickly, Minerva's head snapped up, as she found herself staring into the light blue, deep, yet concerned eyes of her teacher.  
  
"No, Professor." she managed to say with a polite smile.  
  
"No, of course not."  
  
"Oh…" Albus commented as he sat down as well, looking down on the bent, ebony-haired head of the girl.  
  
What was wrong with her? And what was wrong with him for wondering what was wrong with her? What was this girl more to him than a student?  
  
Nothing… except a brilliant person and the daughter of one of his best friends… and a beautiful girl, and quite a nice companion, even when she was behaving so distantly…  
  
So he guessed she was way more to him than a student. 


	13. Chess and Confusion

She was thinking, Albus knew, thinking about her next move, and he loved the sight of it. He found the way she arched her eyebrows quite enjoyable- though he didn't know why. She was just so obviously determined to win. As her dad had always been. Henry McGonagall had never played a game without wanting to win it. It was in her blood.  
  
With a slow gesture, she moved her hand towards her bishop, and moved it.  
  
A smart move, of course- as if she ever made stupid moves!  
  
But Minerva felt her concentration slip away with every second that passed. She was totally incapable of focusing and it irritated her more than she even to herself dared to admit.  
  
Why was she, after all? She was in detention, yes, but this kind of detention was not at all unpleasant, was it? Chess was her favorite game, after all, and Professor Dumbledore's hot cocoa was really… hot. She felt all warm and nice inside, and though, she felt slightly uncomfortable.  
  
Was it all just because of the hot cocoa?  
  
As Albus quickly made his move- almost without thinking, thanks to the long years of exercise he'd had- he couldn't keep himself from staring at her. She now had rosy blushes on her cheeks, and they made her look sweeter than she actually was. Remember, just a few days ago…  
  
And now, he was playing chess with her- and having a wonderful time.  
  
Minerva yawned softly. The warmth in the room made her feel so sleepy… Yet, she felt slightly embarrassed when Albus chuckled  
  
"Is this game that boring, Minerva?"  
  
He smiled warmly as she hastily apologized  
  
"I am sorry, Professor, this game is not at all boring, of course- it's just…"  
  
"I know, Minerva. Don't bother. It is rather late and you are tired. I understand. Perhaps we'd better end this game tomorrow…"  
  
With a thankful smile, she nodded.  
  
"Yes, thank you. I indeed feel very sleepy, but…" she added - what had got into her?- with a playful grin. "Don't you dare move any of my pieces!"  
  
Albus chuckled. One wouldn't easily deceive Minerva McGonagall indeed…  
  
"I promise. We'll move the chessboard to my little table over there, and I swear I won't touch a thing…"  
  
He stood up. But as he did so- he unintentionally pushed against the table and one of Minerva's pieces stood now dangerously close to the edge of the board. His reflexes sharp as ever, he stretched his hand out to catch it before it fell… but… found himself holding a slim, pale hand instead. There was obviously one person with sharper reflexes than Albus Dumbledore…  
  
And somehow- Albus couldn't just let go of the hand he was holding. Yet, he knew he had to.  
  
With a fiery blush on his cheeks, he released it.   
  
"I am sorry, Minerva, I didn't mean to…"  
  
But her voice interrupted her, softer than usual, as the blushes on her cheeks became darker as well.  
  
"Don't bother, Professor. It wasn't that unpleasant, and… Well, see you tomorrow!"  
  
With this she almost fled out of office, confused and with an awkward feeling in her stomach.  
  
She could literally hit herself. 


	14. Apology

Oh yes, Minerva McGonagall could literally hit herself when she, cheeks fiery red, almost ran through the corridors, heading for her bedroom. She didn't want to see anyone. Not now.  
  
She'd never been so embarrassed in her life.  
  
It was not at all unpleasant… my god, had any girl ever said such a double-meaning sentence before? Though, it had been the truth. For some reason, she, Minerva never-touch-me-or-I-bite McGonagall, had quite liked the hand of her teacher on hers.   
  
Quite? That was an understatement, she knew, and she hated it. She had wanted his hand to be there. And she didn't know why.  
  
She didn't have any feelings for him. That she knew for sure- she, who always wanted to do things "the right way", would never think, feel or try something so wrong… In fact, even the thought made her feel sick. Such a thing was… would be… extremely bad and indecent. Would be, of course, because she obviously didn't feel that way…   
  
The strange feeling she'd felt, was probably just puberty. It, that strange thing their friends called "crushes" had never occurred to her, and perhaps this was just the outing of… of hormones.  
  
She had always reprimanded her friends when they were on about "and he is such a hottie" and "I so have a crush on him"… She'd always prided on the fact that no thing as "hormones" would ever guide her… in fact, she'd always wanted to think that she had none!  
  
Stupid, of course, and most probably a lie… and yes, she was probably being abnormal again, but that was the way she felt. The way she had felt, better, because now, she wasn't sure anymore. Was this then a "crush", or was it just the comfortable feeling she'd felt in his quarters, that had made her… Had made her do what?   
  
Flee from his office in a most ridiculous way.  
  
Her cheeks grew darker and darker red- my god, and they already felt as if they were going to explode!  
  
As she sighed, she suddenly noticed that she had stopped walking and now stood still in the middle of the corridor. She had to get away… but she also had to apologize… Now what should she do first?  
  
The decision was fortunately taken for her, for suddenly, she heard running ootsteps coming from behind her, and the next moment a fatigued-looking Albus Dumbledore stood next to her.  
  
"My god, Minerva…" he sighed, leaning his hand against the wall.  
  
"You're going to kill me one of these days!"  
  
Minerva smiled faintly, but the smile did not reach her eyes, and Albus noticed it.  
  
"Oh, listen, Minerva, I owe you another apologize, I think. I am sorry if I scared you, but it truly was an accident. I didn't intend to touch your hand and…"  
  
His voice became softer with every word he said.  
  
"And I would be very sad if this unhappy incident would make you distance from me. For you are an extraordinarily intelligent and nice girl. You are my star pupil… and you're the most challenging chess adversary I have ever met…"   
  
With this, he grinned, but Minerva interrupted him.  
  
"No, Professor, I am the one who has to apologize here. I overreacted and said a stupid thing. I was the one who was wrong and not you! So hereby I apologize: I am sorry. But indeed, our chess games are quite challenging…"  
  
She smiled as well and Albus softly patted her shoulder.  
  
"So I guess we'll just forgive each other."  
  
Minerva nodded, and, almost in unison, they laughed  
  
"I forgive you."  
  
And as Minerva later on finally went to her bed, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.  
  
Hormones?   
  
Forget it! 


	15. Feelings?

The next day, classes passed, but they passed way too slowly for Minerva. She longed for the evening, when she would again join Professor Dumbledore in his office. When they would chess again. And Minerva loved to chess with him- he was a rarely worthy adversary for her. Minerva loved to chess with him. Actually, she loved to be with him in general.   
  
It was such a strange thing, that just four days earlier, she had insulted him in the most terrible ways possible, and now…  
  
It was a strange thing.  
  
And though she liked it, it scared her as well. She'd always been so balanced, so sure… And when she had an opinion, she didn't easily change it. Yet now, she'd changed her opinion of her Professor in the most drastic way possible.  
  
She liked him.  
  
She liked him a lot- that tall man with his laughing, blue eyes and his auburn beard. She liked the way he laughed and the way he played chess…. she liked the way he frowned and the way he chuckled…  
  
She liked Albus Dumbledore a lot.  
  
But was there anything wrong with that? Oh yes, Rolanda and Tammy playfully teased her with it, but it wasn't really wrong, was it? She could like her teacher, couldn't she?   
  
Couldn't she?  
  
Her first doubts had now disappeared- now she knew that her dear Professor Sermonem and Albus were friends, she didn't have to feel guilty anymore because of him.   
  
Still, there was a strange feeling which she could not really name…  
  
~*~  
  
Yet, when she entered his office- finally evening!- she merrily greeted  
  
"Hello, Professor!"  
  
Albus looked up from his book and smiled as he closed it.  
  
"Hello, Minerva! How are you!"  
  
She smiled as she took off her green cloak.  
  
"I am fine, thank you. Any papers to grade today?"  
  
As he handed her the closely written parchments, she immediately sat down behind her usual table.  
  
Twenty minutes later, she'd finished, and looked up. Albus softly whistled.  
  
"Congratulations, Minerva, that is, again, a new record. You'd make a fine teacher yourself one day! Have you ever thought of that?"  
  
Minerva honestly smiled and shook her head.  
  
"Not really. I don't know what I want to be, later… My father always told…"  
  
With this, she suddenly hesitated. Why had she just spoken of her dad? She hadn't spoken of her dad, to anyone, since his dead, years earlier. She had always bottled up her feelings. It was, for her, a natural behavior. She'd never wanted to share any of her deepest thoughts, not even with Tammy. It was one of her strange habits. Minerva McGonagall didn't show her weaknesses.  
  
Minerva McGonagall did never cry.  
  
Yet now, she had spoken that one, tragic word.  
  
Father.  
  
"My father always told me to follow my heart." she completed her sentence in a suddenly way softer tone.  
  
"But I do not know yet what my heart wants."  
  
Seriously, her Professor nodded, but remained silent.  
  
Then, very suddenly, he softly spoke  
  
"You miss your father very much, don't you, Minerva?"  
  
If anyone else would have said such a thing to her, Minerva would have snapped and ran away. Yet now, she surprised herself and nodded.  
  
"Yes," she answered, and her voice sounded slightly hoarse.  
  
"Yes, I miss him very much. I loved him with all my heart, Professor. He was so very much like me. He taught me everything, Professor. He loved me the way I was."  
  
"And your mother?"  
  
Minerva sighed.  
  
"Mom… I have never been close to mother, Professor. She is very beautiful, and perhaps even a nice person, but she's always regarded me as… as something weird. Because I am smart. Because I am like my father. There have always been some people who've mocked me because I am intelligent, Professor, but I've never cared about them. Yet, she's my mother. And I wished she was proud of me, but she's never liked me, Professor, and now I can't like her anymore as well…"  
  
With this, she closed her mouth and shivered. Never, never ever had she told anyone so much about herself.   
  
But Professor Dumbledore wasn't surprised at all. He just softly patted her shoulder, and spoke softly  
  
"It feels good, doesn't it, to finally tell someone about this?"  
  
With a faint smile, the girl nodded.  
  
"Yes, Professor. I have never before…"  
  
"I know," he gently interrupted her. "You really are like your father, Minerva. He never told anyone anything as well… But it is not good, my dear, and even your dad couldn't always bottle up everything. Even he has once told me… And I am going to tell you something as well… I don't want to be intrusive, and you don't have to do this if you don't want to, but… You can always tell me anything, Minerva. Anything you want."  
  
He sounded so sincere, so honest, that Minerva smiled.   
  
"Thank you, Professor."  
  
Albus nodded.  
  
"You are welcome, Minerva."  
  
And with a grin, Minerva asked  
  
"So I tell you something?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I want to chess!"  
  
~*~  
  
"Checkmate, I am afraid, Minerva!" Albus spoke triumphantly, two hours later. His eyes had never twinkled so brightly.  
  
Minerva laughed, yet hid her face in her hands and softly moaned.   
  
"Beaten!"  
  
"Yes, beaten, my dear!"  
  
"Beaten…"  
  
And as she noticed a loose strand of hair beside her face, she added  
  
"Beaten and my hair's a mess!"  
  
And indeed it quite was. Minerva's tight bun had totally come loose, and her long, black-ebony hairs fell down her back.  
  
"Even my hair pins have abandoned me!"  
  
Albus smiled as she smiled and tried to pull her mass of hairs back again. Then, he suddenly stood up, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He apparently… sought something.   
  
"Don't look, Minerva!"  
  
Obediently, she closed her eyes as she heard him come closed again. And all of a sudden, she felt his soft hands on her hairs. Slowly, almost tenderly, they started to braid the long, silky tresses. Minerva sighed.  
  
This felt good.   
  
Way too good.  
  
And it ended way too early.  
  
"Ready!" Albus Dumbledore exclaimed victoriously. "Look into the mirror!"  
  
And she did look.   
  
And she saw herself, with a long, beautiful and difficult-looking braid in her hair. Held together by two ribbons- one dark red and one golden.  
  
Minerva held her breath as she turned to Albus again.  
  
He was grinning.  
  
"Professor! This is so beautiful! Where did you learn this?"  
  
Albus chuckled softly.  
  
"My mother had very long hairs, Minerva. And no daughters, unfortunately. So her oldest son was the one who had to braid them. My brother, somehow, was always more interested in… goats, for some reason."  
  
Minerva smiled.  
  
"Tell your mother I am very grateful, Professor."  
  
Albus grinned, yet softly spoke, as he took her hand.  
  
"She has already passed away, Minerva, but if she hadn't, I would certainly tell her what beautiful hairs I have braided tonight…"  
  
With this, he softly stroked her long braid.  
  
Minerva smiled, but a bit uncomfortably, as she muttered  
  
"Thank you, Professor. But I believe I have to go now… it is rather late. Goodnight."  
  
Albus nodded, yet as she'd closed the door, he hid his face in his hands and moaned.  
  
"My god… what have I done now…" 


	16. Wrong

"Professor?" Minerva asked seriously, the next day.   
  
It was her 4th detention with Dumbledore, and they had just played chess again. Albus had won, again, but Minerva didn't really care. She now liked talking with him better than just playing chess.   
  
Albus smiled as he saw the faint blushes on her cheeks.  
  
"Yes, Minerva?"  
  
"I want to thank you." she muttered softly, suddenly not wanting to look into his eyes.  
  
"For what, my dear?"  
  
"For yesterday. For listening to me. You actually are the first one I've ever entrusted those feelings to…"  
  
Albus nodded softly.  
  
"I realize that, Minerva, and I am honored."  
  
Minerva smiled, but she hadn't finished yet.  
  
"It's a strange thing, but I trust you, Professor. I have never had anyone to share my thoughts with, but you are- it is strange." she ended her sentence quite confusedly. Why had she tried to say this? What had she tried to say anyway?  
  
But Albus still was serious.  
  
"I am really honored, Minerva, but how could you have never had anyone to tell these things? You are such a wonderful girl- and quite popular, I believe."  
  
Minerva slightly blushed, yet shook her head.  
  
"Actually, I have never been really "popular", Professor. I am too intelligent. This is not plain brag- it is true. There are, and have always been, people who're jealous of me because of that. And yes, I have friends, but I've never had that one "best friend". I thought Tammy would perhaps become it, but- well, I don't know. I like her, she's great, but she- she had Phelas now, and…"  
  
She had said all this more to herself than to Albus, yet the man had, of course, heard everything and grinned faintly. But he was shaking inside.  
  
For some reason.  
  
"Ah, a boy, yes, I get it. But, my dear, you aren't telling me that you have not got a boyfriend, are you?"  
  
Minerva quite sternly raised her eyebrows, yet then honestly answered his question.  
  
"No, I have not, and to be honest, I have never had one either. Except- but I was a child then… I have never really felt love for someone… I don't think, by the way, that any boy has ever felt something for me either…"  
  
Albus shivered very softly. How could she speak so bitterly, such harsh words?  
  
"Minerva," he spoke very sincerely. "don't think that bad of yourself. I know this sounds ridiculous and cliché-like, but you will meet your prince once. I am sure of that. And I, and this I mean with all my heart, cannot imagine how any man could ever lay eyes on you and not immediately fall in love."  
  
And what had he said now…  
  
A silence had fallen and it was a strange silence.  
  
Albus Dumbledore's words meant as much as "I have fallen in love with you, Minerva, and they both realized it.  
  
They had crossed a border.  
  
There was no way back.  
  
With a suddenly hoarse cough, Albus stood up.  
  
"I shouldn't have said that, Minerva. I apologize. I hereby remit you your detention of tomorrow. Perhaps you had better leave now…"  
  
"No!"  
  
She'd exclaimed the one word without thinking, and as she stood up, she knew that something had happened to her as well.  
  
"No, Professor. I am coming back tomorrow. We should not part on such uncomfortable terms. I-"  
  
She gazed at him, intensely, a strange light in her emerald eyes?  
  
He was so close.  
  
She was so close.  
  
Minerva could feel Albus' breath on her face. He smelled like hot cocoa.  
  
She loved hot cocoa.  
  
And all of a sudden, their eyes linked and very, very slowly, their faces met.  
  
As the earth stopped moving.  
  
They both did not know who had started the kiss. It had just come. Suddenly, their lips had touched and somehow, everything became perfect.  
  
They both were surprised, but they both knew they liked it.  
  
And they both realized how very, very wrong this was.  
  
Albus would have given everything to let this one, this one, small moment last forever. And ever. And ever.   
  
Her lips on his, so timidly, so carefully, yet so obviously present.   
  
He was kissing Minerva McGonagall, the most wonderful person in the world.   
  
And suddenly, he got back to his senses.  
  
He released her, briskly. She stared at him, a question in her eyes, a question which could not be expressed in words. Perhaps "What was this?" was the closest one could ever get.  
  
But she asked more.   
  
What was this?  
  
Why did this happen?  
  
Do I- love you?  
  
Is this wrong?  
  
But of course it was wrong!  
  
Albus cleared his throat as he felt the blood rush to his cheeks."  
  
"I apologize, Minerva. I sincerely do apologize, and…"  
  
She stopped him with one gesture.  
  
"No, Professor, I apologize. I am- sorry…"  
  
With this, she ran away.  
  
Albus could see she was crying. 


	17. Love?

As Minerva wandered through the corridors- she closed her eyes and realized that they had crossed the line. She had crossed the line. For she entirely blamed herself- of course it was her fault, as if Albus Dumbledore would ever love her!   
  
It was she who had fallen in love with him. Now, she finally dared to admit it. She had to admit it, for it was the truth, and Minerva McGonagall had always valued the truth higher than tact or sensitivity. She had always been hard with others- now she had to be hard with herself.  
  
Yes, she recalled, leaning against the cold, stone wall of Hogwarts, she, Minerva McGonagall, the Head Girl who had always known exactly what was right and what wasn't, had fallen in love with a teacher who was, at least, three times her age.  
  
Face it, Minerva, she sternly spoke to herself, yet she shivered as she realized the full proportions of her feelings.  
  
It wasn't a crush. It was certainly not a crush.  
  
It was love, it consumed her.  
  
And it was forbidden.  
  
It most definitely was.  
  
Minerva bit her lips as she firmly slapped herself in the face.  
  
Quit it now, quit it!   
  
But she had kissed her teacher and she could never go back.  
  
But did she want to go back? No, she did not, and perhaps that was the most disturbing thing of them all! She had *wanted* to kiss him. She even wanted to kiss him again…  
  
Feelings, Minerva McGonagall realized, were dangerous things.  
  
~*~  
  
Yet she managed to pull herself together- she had to control herself, she had to stop these tears from falling from her eyes… It was late and she had to go to the Gryffindor Common Room- or better, to her bed. She did not feel like chattering at all.  
  
She had to think.  
  
Thinking clearly, thinking logically, a thing she had always been good at, yet now, it suddenly seemed so difficult.  
  
"Good," she sternly spoke to herself. "You appear to have fallen in love with an older, famous man who does not love you back. Great. Now pull yourself together and decide what to do."  
  
But what did she have to do?  
  
Go back tomorrow, for her last detention?   
  
Not return, and expect him to understand it?  
  
Go back, and face him again… or not return and lose everything of the kind-of friendship they had built up. But would they not no matter what lose that friendship?  
  
"Yes of course you will, you big idiot!" Minerva snapped to herself.  
  
But she would go back tomorrow. She was a Gryffindor after all, and the least she could do was apologize. Apologize and then never, never ever again look him in the eyes.   
  
"I will return." she softly muttered as she stood before the entrance of her Common Room.  
  
"I am sure you will, my dear." the Fat Lady answered sleepily. "Password?"  
  
"Lacrimae Virginis." Minerva quickly answered, as she recalled how strangely well-fit the password suddenly seemed. Lacrimae Virginis. Tears of a girl…  
  
As she entered the Common Room, she felt enormously relieved as she saw it was already empty. She was lucky…  
  
All she wanted was lay down on her bed with her clothes still on and just sleep… sleep and or a while forget her troubles.  
  
But there was still Rolanda Hooch.  
  
As she, already lying in her bed, heard stumbling on the stairs, she sat up straight.  
  
"Minerva?"  
  
"Yes, Rolanda."   
  
Minerva's voiced sounded slightly muffled- strange.  
  
"Where have you been- my god, Minerva, have you been crying?"  
  
Minerva snorted, yet frantically wiped the last marks of tears on her cheeks away. Stupid red puffy eyes…  
  
"Of course not, Rolanda!" she then muttered, hoping her voice didn't tremble. "I have a cold, that's all. Have you ever seen me crying?"  
  
Since Rolanda had indeed never seen her formidable friend cry, she shrugged her shoulders and lay down again.  
  
"Well, okay then, Min. Goodnight!"  
  
She was not entirely convinced, though.  
  
Minerva, who was very grateful indeed, curled up in her bed, and slept… 


	18. Love

6.30 p.m. and Minerva McGonagall bit her nails. It was a bad habit, she knew, but thestrange thing was, that it wasn't one of her habits at all! Tammy was more the nail-biting type, and Minerva then usually reproached her and told her she would one day accidentally eat her fingers. Now, Miss-I-Don't-Have-Any-Bad-Habits was biting her nails herself.  
  
But she had a very good reason indeed.  
  
Hell. It was absolute hell.   
  
For heaven's sake, even Rolanda Hooch, Troublemaker First Class, had surely never been in a situation like this! It was she, Minerva McGonagall, Head Girl, model student, who had to go to her teacher and apologized because she had *kissed* him.  
  
Oh, hell. It really was absolute hell.   
  
Yet she knew she had to do it. Doing the right thing always had been very important to her father- and thus to her as well. And the right thing undoubtedly was what she intended to do.   
  
With a sigh, she checked her watch. 6.40. Still twenty minutes.   
  
"Oh God, I am bored!" she accidentally said out loud. Immediately, at least five hopeful-looking people looked up from their homework.  
  
"Min, if you are bored, then perhaps you could give me a hand for my Astronomy essay? The moons of Jupiter…"  
  
Minerva laughed as she saw Poppy's blue, pleading eyes.  
  
"No, Poppy, you have to do it yourself. Really, copying homework is…"  
  
"It's not that difficult, Pops." Sera interrupted her friend in a dreamy voice.   
  
"I've already finished it."  
  
Rolanda Hooch rolled her eyes as she threw a pillow at Serena.   
  
"Yes, but you are a freak, Sera!"  
  
"I am not a freak- oh wait, yes I am…"  
  
Sera giggled and Minerva rolled her eyes.  
  
"Whatever."  
  
She stood up.  
  
"I think I must be going now. My last detention…"  
  
Tammy looked up from the books before her.  
  
"It's only quarter to seven, Minerva."  
  
Minerva nodded and sighed.  
  
"I know. But the sooner I get there, the sooner it's over!"  
  
Tammy stared queerly at her friend, as did Sera and Poppy. Rolanda did not, though.  
  
"I thought you liked him? I mean- he actually is a dear, and…"  
  
Minerva shrugged her shoulders as she took her cloak.  
  
"Not now, Tams… bye."  
  
And she left the room, leaving at least five worrying friends behind.  
  
~*~  
  
As she stood before the door of Albus' office, Minerva slowly inhaled and exhaled again. She had to do this, she sternly spoke to herself as she balled her fist and knocked on the wood. She had to- she had to- she had to.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
And she entered.   
  
"Minerva!"   
  
His calling out her name was almost a cry. A cry of surprise, of- fear? Or of happiness? Hard to tell… But no, she mustn't start… imagining things. Imagination was a dangerous thing.  
  
"Yes, Professor."  
  
"I thought I… I thought I had remitted you your last detention. You should not have come here, tonight."  
  
Minerva blushed and looked down at her nervously shaking hands.  
  
"I know. But I had to. I still had to apologize to you, Professor."  
  
"What? But…"   
  
Albus stood up and frowned.  
  
"I am sorry…" Minerva slowly repeated, interrupting her Professor. Oh hell, those eyes, those wonderful, light eyes… The girl sighed and lowered her eyes once more.  
  
"I appear to have fallen in love with you, Professor. It is ridiculous and utterly unacceptable. I know this. I know I went out of line yesterday. I hereby apologize, and I am willing to lay down my Head Girl duties for this… I…"  
  
She heard her voice shake slightly and shut up. What would he say? She would, of course, be seriously reprimanded. Her Head Girl badge she could probably forget either. She almost smiled bitterly. As if she cared.  
  
The only thing she wanted, and this was the first time she dared to admit it, even to herself, were his arms around her. His face on hers. His love. The only thing she wanted was the only thing she could never have. Period. And she had to deal with it. Period.  
  
"Minerva…"  
  
She loved his voice. She loved him.  
  
"Minerva, I…"   
  
His voice sounded slightly hoarse, and she slowly looked up again. He stood there, dumbfounded, his arms stretched out slightly. And then, it happened.  
  
He took her hands in his.  
  
Minerva felt her feelings fight each other. On the one hand- God, the butterflies in her stomach...- and on the other hand a sudden urge to pull her hands back. This was wrong. She all of a sudden knew what he was about to say… she could hardly believe it, yet she knew it… Or did she?  
  
"Minerva, I have fallen in love with you. I love you. It is terrible, it is unthinkable, it is horrible and wrong. But then why does it… this… feel so damn right?"  
  
He cupped her face. Her eyes, timidly, shyly, met his and saw her own love reflected.  
  
And he kissed her. 


	19. Sure

He kissed her.  
  
And Minerva completely lost herself. All she knew was that wonderful- wonderful feeling, that feeling of his face on hers, of his soft, slightly wet lips on her trembling ones. And then, slowly and carefully, his arms around her waist.  
  
Albus was almost shaking as he pulled Minerva closer. She was so sweet- so soft, and yet such a personality. He loved her. He had never, even in his youth, felt more than slight romantic feelings for a woman, but this was so much more pure. This had to be love. But why did she have to be his student?  
  
As her pale, slender hands crawled up his chest and lightly touched his beard, he didn't care anymore. He read her eyes, read the truth in them, read the dreams in them. Albus Dumbledore had read many books, but that moment he knew that he would never read a book as beautiful and enchanting as the fiery, emerald eyes of Minerva McGonagall.  
  
But even lovers need oxygen.   
  
Minerva kept on holding her breath- she knew that, if the kiss ended, the talking had to begin… And she didn't want to talk. As long as they remained silent, she could at least try to fool herself, try to imagine that there was nothing wrong, that they were two adults, in love with each other, that they could laugh together and cry together, that they could walk hand in hand together… that they could marry if they wanted to. That there was no problem, that there was just love and that that love was the only thing that mattered.  
  
Yet, she knew- they both knew- that it was impossible. That they had to pull back once, that they had to pull back and look each other and the world straight in the eye.  
  
So they did. Their lips parted, but Minerva couldn't draw back her arms. Not could he, so it seemed, and in silence, they stood there, still in each others arms.  
  
With a soft sigh, Minerva closed her eyes and hid her face in his beard. He stroked her hair and said nothing.  
  
It was she who, finally, spoke the first. She looked up again and practically nodded, pulling herself together.  
  
"So."  
  
"So." he beamed, despite everything a faint smile on his lips.  
  
"And now?" Minerva then, impulsively, naively, perhaps, asked.  
  
As if she didn't understand that what had happened here could never be undone. As if she hadn't, as if they both hadn't, understood from the very first moment their lips had linked, that there was nothing that still needed to be said.   
  
Yet, she repeated  
  
"And now, Professor? And what do we do now?"  
  
She had never been keen on asking advice. But now, she recalled, now was the time to put all stubborn pride away. She felt helpless, looked helpless, and utterly helpless she was.  
  
The man sighed, yet nodded, and then, without wasting one word, slowly raised her hand to his mouth and softly kissed the palm.  
  
"Call me Albus, Minerva." he muttered.  
  
The girl nodded and, despite herself, snuggled her head against his chest.  
  
"I will, Albus."  
  
His first name sounded so natural when she spoke it, as if her lips had been made to speak it and repeat it over and over again… As if it was meant to be.  
  
But it couldn't be meant to be, could it?  
  
"What should we do now, Albus?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"I love you."  
  
"I love you too."  
  
They had said it, again, dryly, this time, merely admitting a fact than acknowledging their feelings."  
  
"But what now, Albus?" Minerva desperately exclaimed, as she grabbed both of his hands and gazed into his blue eyes. As if she would find a solution in them.  
  
He sighed and pointed at the couch.  
  
"Let us sit down, Minerva. I believe this could become quite a long talk."  
  
"Not if it depends on me!" the girl fiercely spoke, as she, unwillingly, released his hands and sat down.  
  
"I don't need to discuss now, Albus, I don't need to repeat forever and forever that this is forbidden and wrong. I know that. I don't want to let you go."  
  
"Neither do I." the man assured her with a sweet peck on her lips. She smiled.  
  
"I know. What I meant was… Oh, Albus, a part of me despises this, for it is unthinkable and forbidden, but another part of me despises myself for despising this. Look, I do not want to lose you, you don't want to lose me, so I guess we now officially love each other. Good. I don't care, after all..."  
  
"But Minerva," Albus interrupted her gravely.  
  
"You have to care. Perhaps- perhaps…"  
  
She narrowed her eyes and looked into his.  
  
"Do you have your doubts?"  
  
He sincerely shook his head and once more took her hand.  
  
"No. But you realize- this can get you expelled, Minerva. This could ruin your whole future. I can't…"  
  
"It can ruin your career as well." Minerva swiftly answered.  
  
"I don't care…" Albus began, yet, as he noticed her triumphant smile, he realized he had just lost the whole argument-thing they were having.  
  
She grinned.  
  
"See? And just as you don't care, so I don't care. If I would think it wise, I would now leave Hogwarts and marry you."  
  
She had said it calmly, as a statement.  
  
Albus chuckled.  
  
"Minerva, you are once more a mystery. How can any girl be so in control and so passionate at the same time?"  
  
His question was quickly answered as she cupped his head and softly pressed her lips on his.  
  
"Like this."  
  
She sighed and leant her head on his shoulder, as he laid his arm around her and pulled her closer.  
  
"So Minerva?" he then muttered.  
  
"Mm-m?"  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes, Albus."  
  
"Sure sure?"  
  
The girl theatrically sighed, then turned to him, looked into his eyes and nodded.  
  
"Sure sure."  
  
Then, she kissed him once more and no more words were needed… 


End file.
